There's No Going Back
by GinelleRose
Summary: This is the story of Finnick Odair. It starts from his reaping till his victory tour. In this story he realizes that there's no turning back.
1. Chapter 1: The Reaping

A yell wakes me from my slumber. I spring up alert, looking around for who caused the yell. I calmed down after realizing it was my father waking me up. I let out a long sigh, wishing I could collapse onto my nice, warm bed. But the fact that once my father wakes me up and I fall back asleep, a bucket of water 'mysteriously' dumps itself onto my face, keeps me from sleeping. Suddenly it dawns on me, today's the reaping. My palms start to sweat, as my heartbeat accelerates. I'm more scared than I was when it was my first reaping. A year ago when my best friend Chris and I were only 13 years old, he was reaped for the 64th Hunger year of the 64th annual Hunger Games, district 4 had no victor. Nobody volunteered and I'm pretty no one will this year.

I carefully riffle though my clothes till I came to my reaping clothes, which is the best outfit I owned. We always been OK money-wise, but I just didn't need fancy clothes. In fact they bothered me, so it's a rare occasion when I wear something nice. After putting the outfit on I bound the stairs to where my father was solemnly frying fish. On the table laid two teal colored plates. My dad in one swift movement, had a fried fish lying on each plate. This was a reaping tradition that we always did, my dad would always cook fish for breakfast, instead of the usual bacon and eggs. "So son." my dad begins, and after a short pause continues, "If the odds are not in your favor, and God forbid, you are reaped, make sure everyone believes that you are overjoyed at such an honor. OK?" "Yes dad, I understand, this way captolites will want to sponsor me." I respond, used to this talk that I had before every reaping since I turned 12. We finish breakfast in an awkward silence, which made up most of the time I spent with my dad.

We start the short walk to the town's square, when we run into Chris's family, the Cresta's. My dad starts idly chatting to Alex, Chris's mom. I slow my pace to match his 12 year old sister's speed. I could see her dragging her feet slowly hoping she would miss the reaping, but we both know it doesn't work that way. "So Annie, today's your first reaping eh?" I say. She nods quickly, she always been a sweet girl, even though we never talked much, just pleasant greetings whenever we ran into each other. "Come one sunshine lighten up." I grin trying to diffuse the tensions and ease her worried mind. She smiles softly showing off her dimples that I never realized she had. "Ooo someone got dimples." I tease, prodding the newly shown dimple with my index finger. Her grin widen, as she tucked a piece of brown hair behind her ear revealing a pretty bracelet.

The bracelet looked hand woven, with small shells between the knots. As I was gonna ask where she got it, the tension in the air, became thick. A glance at my surroundings made me realized we were right in front of the town square. Annie grasped her mom's hand tightly, as my dad clasped his hand my shoulder. We journeyed to the entrance. Our parents parted ways, giving words of good luck, as me and Annie went to get our fingers pricked. A female peacekeeper pricked my finger drawing blood. She placed it onto something that I only seen in procession of the capitol. Finnick Odair age 14 popped onto the screen, as she ushered me to take me place with the other boys my age. I turn around to tell Annie something, and see her getting her finger pricked. "Good luck." to my surprise she answers breaking her silence. "You too."

I stand in place with the other boys. I find some friends in my class and we begin to joke around. It's that or show how scared out of our minds we are. Within 15 minutes every has arrived so Mallory Picket strolls to the reaping ball. Mallory Picket may perhaps be the ugliest thing I ever laid eyes on. Her hair, pinpoint straight, an unnatural yellow that obviously dyed, falls down her back. Her eyeliner, or whatever it is, follows her eyelash line till it flicks upwards at the ends, to her eyebrows connecting the eyeliner with them. Her face obviously is dyed white. She peppily announces the 65th annual Hunger Games. She then starts the usual video about how the Hunger Games commits good, taming the people of the districts. I am disgusted, more disgusted than I ever thought possible. "Ladies first!" she chirps.

She digs her pale white hand into the bowl, swirling her hand around until she is satisfied pulling up a white piece of folded paper. "Andrea Sea!" she announces. A broad shouldered girl emerges from the roped off 18 year old section. She struts to the stage showing no emotion, her short blond hair swinging as she walks. She climbs the stage steps as Mallory announces "What a fine young tribute! Now onto the boys!" She prances to the boy's reaping bowl. This time she simply plucks off the first paper she can grasp. She slowly lifts it for dramatic effect. Unfolding the paper she reads the name. "Finnick Odair! Come on up! Don't be shy!" My heart sunk lower than I ever thought possible. I closed my eyes hoping it be an awful dream. I slowly open my eyes to see Mallory becoming impatient. So I stroll to the stage placing a grin to my face, as if it was an honor, not a ticket to my death. "Why aren't you handsome!" she says as I arrive next to her.

"Now tributes shake hands." Andrea squeezes my hand tight as if she can't wait for the arena. I'm sure she can't. We're herded inside into a fancy room to say goodbye before they ship us off to our deaths. First is my dad. He enters saying no words and just embraces me tightly. "I love you son." He finally speaks. "I love you too dad." I respond, truly meaning it. He might not say much, but I love him all the same. Two peacekeepers enter the room informing my dad that time is up. As my dad leaves he turns and gives me one last nugget of advice. "Don't forget who you are." And with that he was gone.

Next some friends stopped and said bye, none of them as close as Chris. Ms. Cresta gives her farewell as well wishing me luck. Then, when I thought no more were coming, Annie entered. Tears were streaming down her bright red face. I opened my arms for her and she jumped into them hugging me for the first and probably last time. "F-Finn." she stutters. "Will you take this as your token. It was Chris's in the arena, they gave it back to us." She holds up the bracelet that I was observing earlier. I nod my head, as she slips it onto my wrist. The peacekeeper taps her on the shoulder signaling that her time is up. She got up wiping the tears from her eyes. "Good luck Finn, I know you can do it" And with that she was gone. Peacekeepers escorted me into the hallway to the train. In the hallway Andrea bumped my shoulder exclaiming "Oops my mistake!" In a tone that suggests it wasn't an accident, and of course completing our lovely exchange with a glare that obviously read 'you're dead meat.' After the peacekeepers ensured that we weren't near each other, we arrived at the train to meet our mentors.


	2. Chapter 2:The Mentors

Seated across the table from me was Mags, the victor of the 9th Hunger Games, next to me sat the victor of the 60th Hunger Games, Thomas Gallon. And of course, diagonal from me sat the lovely Andrea, who was sending me lovely death glares over her fillet. I rolled my eyes. Andrea, noticing the swift action, promptly started to increase the fright of her death glare. "So I be taking Andrea, and Mags be taking you Finnick." Thomas said at last, the last words he spoken was when he first came to greet us. Uh oh, this isn't good, Mags is 80 something, and I can barely understand her. Thomas was 23, winning his games at 18, and still at the top of his game. He volunteered, and was a career, apparently noticed Andrea was one. At the news, Andrea began to smirk at me. I already couldn't stand her, when a thought crossed my mind.

Thomas, who was a trained career, wanted to help Andrea leaving me with the old lady, meaning he already gave up on me. Now all I can do is hoping Mags doesn't give up on me. "Don't worry Finnick, that old lady is one of the finest mentors that you could get." He grinned at Mags. Mags rolled her eyes at him, and turned to give me a warm smile. I have yet to hear her speak, since her greeting was a smile and nod. "So you two, Mallory is never gonna shut up. I'm warning you now, so smile and act like you want to hear her talk about stuff no one cares about, and not hurtle a chair out the window." He grinned yet again. And of course Mallory enters the room looking around as if she was expecting everyone to bow. Like hell we do that. "Speak of the devil." Mags muttered under her breathe, her voice wispy with age. I grinned at her, which she returned with no hesitant. I was starting to like these mentors.

"So Finnick, do you fish?" Mags asks as Mallory sits in her seat. "Of course." I grin. "It's the one thing me and my dad did, that wasn't awkward. He takes me out all the time." "Not anymore." Remarked the queen of sass, Andrea. Both mentors sent a glare her way. "That be good for survival. The arena isn't all about killing." Mags told me. Thomas repeated the question to Andrea, who responded enthusiastically. I tuned out her response, not caring what she had to say. I started to imagine being back on our fishing boat, fishing as if nothing bad had happen, or would happen. A sharp pinch on my arm snapped me out of my reverie. I looked at Andrea expecting her to be the culprit. She was still talking. I looked at Mags realizing it was her. She has one heck of a pinch. She grins, and nods to Andrea beckoning me to pay attention. Oh pay attention to the competition, why wasn't I already doing that?

I'm too distracted for my own good. I rubbed my eyes, hoping to pay more attention. I realized she had just finished speaking. Mallory seeing an opening to speak, started going on and on about how the shoe prices were beginning to rise. Wow, Thomas was right, I really do want to hurtle a chair out the window. And judging by Andrea's glare, finally directed to someone other than me, wanted to too. A smile tweaked its way at my lips. Mallory turned the other way, claiming she heard a noise, which I realized that Mags, on the other side of the table threw something across the room, while Mallory wasn't paying attention. Mags promptly began to air-choke Andrea. Laughter bubbled inside me rising out to be join by Thomas's hearty chuckles. Even Andrea was smiling. Mallory whipped back around to see that Mags had transformed her action into a sweet, too sweet smile. Mallory began to demand what was so funny. No one answered.

Once dinner was finished, we all headed into the living room to watch the reaping recaps. District 1 tributes were both reaped, no volunteers. They were utterly unimpressive. The girl was 17 years old, while the boy was 15. District 2 both had volunteers. The boy was more than twice my height and weight. Mags, sitting next to me on the couch, gave me a comforting squeeze on the shoulder. The girl was able to match Andrea in her impressive build. District 3 tributes were both 12 years old. The girl glasses were taped in the middle, looking like they have been broken several times. In district 4, we both look fearless and fearful, at least Andrea looked fearful. This was good. The rest of the districts were last tributes in district 12 were both on 12 years old. The girl had blonde hair , blue eyes, while the boy had grey eyes, and coal-black hair. The boy had the description of many tributes from there. The girls features appeared less often.

"Okay." Announced Thomas standing up with a clap of his hands, as soon as the t.v. flickered off. "Time for bed. Go on go on! You need your beauty sleep for when you meet your stylists tomorrow." Everyone exchanges good night, as we head off to bed. I find my room soon enough, as it had my name written across it. And lucky me Andrea's room is right across. I enter and make sure I lock the door in case Andrea gets an idea to murder me in my sleep. I take off my shoes and throw them where ever as they make a loud thump. I jog to the bathroom, and strip off my clothes. I step into the shower and cleanse myself. I then ready myself for bed. I flop onto the bed, my arms behind my head. Before I even have time to think, like I planned, I fell into a deep slumber.


End file.
